


All your senses

by notraelet



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blindfolds, Disaac - Freeform, M/M, Panic Attacks, Sensory Deprivation, and peter is his usual unhelpful self, but he's trying to be good to his last baby, heaven help me, i spend way too much time analyzing how each character fights, in which derek was a bad alpha, isaac isn't taking his shit though, it's going to be the death of me, smut in later chapters, so it's a bit of an uphill battle, this was supposed to be a tiny drabble
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-03
Updated: 2014-03-19
Packaged: 2018-01-14 10:48:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1263487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notraelet/pseuds/notraelet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Derek breathes out a slow exhale and ignores the way the warmth of Isaac's back feels, pressed against him, forced to submit.  He ignores the way that it brings back a pang of nostalgia, the rush of power, being an <i>alpha</i> and knowing that the wolves of his own creation bowed to <i>him</i>.  He ignores the memories of Isaac, curled up in fear of him, and he hates himself for missing that sort of power.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Isaac is tired of losing his fights, but Allison still won't let him in and Scott is wrapped up in Kira.  So he goes back to his old alpha for some long-overdue werewolf training.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oh god this was supposed to be a drabble. Anyway, first chapter is setup, establishing relationships and stuff. HOPEFULLY it will only be two chapters long with smut in the second chapter, but the world needs more Disaac so maybe it'll be longer. :o

In the end, Isaac comes back.

He may live with the McCalls now, he may be so thoroughly _Scott's_ that Derek is starting to expect to see the young alpha's name carved into his skin, but he comes back. Derek almost wishes he was surprised. Isaac came back after Derek threw him out, he came back after Derek pretended to be dead. Isaac came back every time his father had struck him. There's something in the beta that leads to reliance, and he'll claim that it's loyalty, but Derek knows that it is, in fact, weakness.

But he can't begrudge the beta for it now, even when Isaac's fist raps against the steel door of the loft, even when the door slides open with a heavy rumble as it always does. Derek closes doors left and right, it seems, but they never quite stay that way.

It leads to them standing here awkwardly, Derek leaning over his desk with his fingers pressed against the wood, and Isaac with his shoulders back against the door as if he'll bolt at any time. And Derek is trying temperance, he's trying patience and education over violence and anger. He tells the others that Scott had taught him that. In the moments of silence that stretches on, Derek wonders if it wasn't actually Isaac.

Isaac, who had lifted his shirt up at Derek's request those eight months ago, his eyes deerlike and scared, his heart jackrabbit fast. The first peek of the pale flesh under his clothes revealed heavy bruises, revealed aged and faded scars in the pattern of belt buckles. It's why Derek chose him, after all. This boy, his first and his last, who had run from one abuser, only to face another, whose loyalty never wavered until Derek had given him no other option.

_Were you lonely?_

"Scott says you're a teacher now," Isaac finally says, breaking the silence. Derek tries not to listen to his heartbeat, tries not to remember how it almost stopped because of him.

Derek may be a teacher, but that doesn't make him agreeable and when he nods, it's simple and reserved, still unsure as to why Isaac is back- while another part of him accepts it like it was the most predictable thing in the world. He saved Isaac's life and in doing so, he made it more threatened than ever, and Isaac is the type of person who confuses debt with love, who excuses anger and returns with a bowed head and bended knee. If Derek hadn't left those weeks ago, then he's sure that Isaac would have come back to him then.

"Well, Scott is with Kira or Stiles about twenty-four-seven these days," there's a measured shrug, and Isaac lifts his eyebrows, his tone never losing its nonchalance, never acknowledging the tension in the room, "and I'm pretty tired of losing every fight I'm in."

"You want me to train you?" The question comes out before Derek can stop himself, and there's too much bad blood between them, too many training sessions that ended in broken bones and hurt feelings that he doesn't know _how_ Isaac could possibly want something like that.

Well, he does, but the idea is so terrible that he wants to reject it. Isaac doesn't care about blood and bones, even now, he's still pathetically used to it. He still expects it, _accepts_ it, and that in itself is unacceptable, but Derek doesn't know how to say that without giving away how much he notices, how much he's actually _aware_ of what makes Isaac tick.

"Shouldn't be too hard. You've done it before."

Derek just stares at him. Isaac hesitates a moment before clarifying.

"You've done a half-assed job of it before. Look, I need to know how to _win_ , or I'm dead- and worse, I'm useless to Scott and Allison. So you help me, or I'll find someone else."

There's a pause, and Derek knows he's going to regret his curiosity for asking, but-

"-who else?"

Isaac shrugs. "Dunno. Peter? Mister Argent? They both seem to have pretty good ideas on how this stuff works."

Obviously. It's as bad as he was expecting, and Derek doesn't want the awkwardness, the tension of dealing with Isaac again, but if it's a choice between sucking it up or letting his beta ( _Scott's_ beta, not his, not anymore) go to Peter or an _Argent_ for help, then... well...

"Fine." Isaac's face brightens for a moment, but Derek cuts him off before he can respond. "But I call the shots. I tell you what you need to do and you don't question it. I may not be your alpha anymore, but if I'm going to show you what I know, then you need to respect me. Are we clear?"

Typical. He sounds like a hardass, like the alpha that snapped Isaac's arm for the simple sin of complaining after a training session. Derek wants to cringe at the severity of his own words, certain that they would drive Isaac away- certain that Isaac had _learned_ not to sign off his own bodily safety to a power crazed asshole, but-

"Yeah."

But he doesn't.

"Good. We start now."

_

Two hours later, Isaac hits the floor for the umpteenth time.

He doesn't complain but he doesn't have to. Bruises from Derek are healing faster than they used to, and it's clear that Isaac is more than capable of enduring punishment. But then again, Derek knew that already.

"Better. But you have to _predict_. You can't just react, you have to _anticipate_."

Isaac opens his mouth- probably to say something like _I'm trying_ , but he closes it after a moment and moves to stand, the back of his shirt drenched in sweat, his eyes narrowed in frustration. Anticipate. Predict.

Derek lunges at him before he's fully recovered, and Isaac parries a blow- beta strength for beta strength, physically matched in a way that makes prickles of injustice rush down Derek's spine. He ignores it and strikes again, from the left this time. Isaac makes the sacrifice, takes the blow and uses the momentum to step in closer, to strike out at Derek's stomach.

It's a move that he's tried before- Isaac has a tendency to lurch, to sacrifice the safety of his own body for the opportunity at landing a single blow, and Derek sees through it every time. Now, he catches Isaac's wrist, twists it and pulls until Isaac's shoulder is yanked across their bodies, turning around as Derek presses his other hand to the beta's shoulder, forcing him down.

Isaac kneels on the ground with shaky legs, forced to obey or risk his wrist being broken, and Derek presses warmly against his back, leaning down so that Isaac can hear him, even as he whispers.

"If you anticipated my second attack, I wouldn't have hit you. Your strike would have been faster, and you would have gotten away with a punch at me. Do you understand?"

He holds him tightly, putting pressure on his wrist until Isaac grits out a stubborn _yes_.

Derek breathes out a slow exhale and ignores the way the warmth of Isaac's back feels, pressed against him, forced to submit. He ignores the way that it brings back a pang of nostalgia, the rush of power, being an _alpha_ and knowing that the wolves of his own creation bowed to _him_. He ignores the memories of Isaac, curled up in fear of him, and he hates himself for missing that sort of power.

His hands release suddenly and he steps back, too quick. Isaac doesn't seem to notice and he drags in a deep gasp of air, rubbing at the now-sore wrist.

"I'm not getting it."

"You are," Derek murmurs, still distracted with the conflict. "It just takes time. You're better than you were when I saw you last."

"I am?"

The former alpha looks up toward Isaac at the question, surprised by the uncharacteristic self doubt- but when he opens his mouth to speak, he's cut off by the shrill ring of a text notification on Isaac's phone.

There's silence as he fishes it out of his pocket before flipping through the text message, and Isaac stands in a rush, cursing under his breath.

"Shit. I forgot I was supposed to pick up stuff for dinner. I gotta go."

Part of Derek wants to say no. Wants to tell him that he _can't_ , just to have power over _something_ again. But that's a part of himself that he's been forcing away, trying to quell into nonexistence, so he just nods and glances toward his watch.

"Come back on Thursday after school. We'll work more then."

Isaac nods, and is gone again.

_

He thinks about it that night as he lays in bed, palm against his breastbone. He thinks about Isaac trembling in that grave the first night they met, remembers the cold, clammy feel of the teen's hand as he pulled him out and bathed him in the light of the moon.

Isaac was scrawnier then. More rabbit than wolf, scared of everything. And when he found Derek the next night, when he shined the flashlight down in that subway, Derek told him that he didn't have to be scared of anything again.

It was a lie, but he tells himself that he didn't realize it at the time. He tells himself that _he_ wasn't scared as he bit down on the delicate skin, tasted Isaac's blood in his mouth and let the virus take hold.

When he held that trembling, mousy figure, he tells himself that he wasn't thinking of black blood and long dark hair. He wasn't worried that Isaac was going to die, even as the teenager looked up at him with a sickly sort of awe, a delicate fragile thing that Derek couldn't break, despite what might as well have been his best attempts.

Isaac had closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they shone a bright golden yellow, and Derek tells himself that he didn't feel relief then- relief implied a fear of failure, and he knew that Isaac would live through it. What kind of person would he be to risk killing Isaac for his own power?  
_

It feels like nothing will ever be the same, but eventually life in Beacon Hills progresses into the same regular rhythm. Fight, lose, plan, struggle, and maybe eke out a win here and there. Isaac comes back on Thursday and then the Tuesday after that and the following Thursday again.

Derek had thought that the extra time spent alone with him would give them an opportunity to talk- for him to apologize and Isaac to understand why he did what he had to. But they don't talk. Isaac barely says anything to him when they're not talking combat strategies and werewolf abilities. Derek can see the gaps in his training and it's painfully obvious that Isaac wasn't taught well the last time. That's his fault too.

There's no finesse to him, no unpredictability, just surging in for attacks, relying on the strength and speed of the wolf and ignoring the other things it gives him. Derek drops him over and over again, and finally, two weeks later, Isaac lets out a loud yell of frustration when his shoulders slam hard against the floor.

"Fuck!"

"You weren't listening-"

"I was!"

Derek sees red for a moment at the sudden defiance, and there's the old instinct to _hurt_ him for daring to question him- but he pulls it back, keeps it under his skin as he approaches. The footsteps make Isaac stop suddenly, going tense as his eyes lift toward Derek's standing figure, and even like this, even when their strength and speed is evenly matched, he'll submit in fear.

It leaves a bad taste in his mouth. Derek doesn't want fear, not anymore.

"...I know. Here." He reaches out a hand, open and kind as opposed to the closed fist, and Isaac eyes it for a moment apprehensively, before letting Derek help him to his feet. The older man shakes his head when Isaac tries to shift back into a fighting pose and slips behind him. 

When Isaac turns his head to look at him, Derek makes a low protest in the back of his throat and turns, taking the beta's jaw in his hand and prompting him to face forward. Isaac's pulse is racing just under his skin, but Derek's heartbeat is slow and strong.

"I want you to listen to me. Don't look at me. Listen to my heartbeat. My breathing. What do they tell you?"

There's a resistance there, Isaac tries turning his head back to look at him, but Derek's grip is strong. Eventually, he settles in, his eyes lowering to the floor as he tries to focus on hearing the man behind him.

"...I don't know. You're alive?"

Derek fights back a surge of impatience that manifests itself into a strained sigh, and Isaac perks up at the sound, realizing the implication.

"-no, I mean. It's slow. They're both slow. No adrenaline, right? You're calm."

"Better." Derek lets go of his chin and Isaac turns his head away then, rubbing at the back of his neck. "But you need to start using everything. Being a werewolf gave you more than strength and speed. It gave you senses, instincts. You should be able to find your way through a maze in pitch darkness. To track anything- to find someone in a busy school just by singling out their breathing. Do you understand?"

There's a little grumble, and Isaac steps off, putting a little distance between them.

"I really don't see what that has to do with fighting."

" _Because_ , Isaac, what have I been telling you? Prediction. Anticipation. You listen to your enemy and their heartbeat betrays if they're calm or on edge- ready to attack. You hear their breathing in the middle of a fight, and when they take in a deep breath, they're preparing to strike. You listen to the rustle of their clothes, the sweep of a blade through the air."

Isaac looks like he's going to scoff again and Derek grabs his shoulder and spins to face him, his eyes narrowed. "And it's not _just_ fighting. I hear that you can barely track. You can't rely on Scott and Allison for that forever, you- "

He's cut off suddenly by Isaac hitting his hand away, and Derek finds himself surprised by the look of anger in his eyes. Anger, not compliance, not just a grim acceptance of the lecture. Derek isn't an alpha anymore, and Isaac doesn't have to react with submission.

"And whose fault is that? All we've been doing is the same things we did before- you just beat the shit out of me and pretend to give a lecture. I'm tired of being told I'm not good enough by the person who was supposed to _make_ me good in the first place."

Anger, of course, is Derek's first instinctive reaction. His eyes flash blue, the previously-pushed aside hand raising to fist in the younger man's shirt, taking in a deep breath to say something.

Isaac flinches, but he doesn't back down. He doesn't lower his eyes and curl up on the floor. The defiance should make him angrier, but for some reason, it doesn't. For some reason, it hits him in that moment, how far Isaac has come from being the rabbit in the graveyard, and a dark burst of pride swells up, and Derek's anger breaks.

"-you're right."

A beat of silence. And then, surprise. The anger fades from Isaac's face and Derek slowly unclenches his fist, lowers his hands to his sides.

"I wasn't a good alpha. I can accept that. But I'm trying to make up for it now." Isaac still stays silent, still watching him warily like he's expecting some sort of switch to be flipped and the anger to come back. It won't- Derek will make sure of that, somehow.

"Give me a couple of days. A week. I want to think about how I'm doing this. If you still want to come back, I'll see you next Thursday."

"...and if I don't?" Isaac asks, his tone curious and almost meek.

Derek shrugs, biting back the disappointment. "Then I'll see you next time Scott calls a pack meeting."

__

“If I remember correctly, the last time he was here, he said ‘you can sit here and perfect the art of doing nothing' before slamming the door and storming out. Overdramatic? Yes, but he is a _teenager_."

Peter is leaning back in his chair, two legs balancing carefully on the ground. Derek briefly entertains the notion of shoving at him, just to tip him over, but he stays still, lowers his eyes a little and tries to get to the root of this. He doesn't have time for Peter's games, and he's not going to talk circles around what he wants.

"I don't care. I turned him, he's my responsibility."

"Weren't Erica and Boyd your responsibility too?" Derek flinches visibly at that, the guilt diving at him, and Peter sits up a little straighter, levels his chair out and shakes his head. "-no, you're right. You were a _fantastic_ alpha."

Somehow, the sarcasm manages to cut even worse, and Derek narrows his eyes in a glare. Peter shrugs, lifting up his hands helplessly.

"Don't shoot the messenger, Derek. But anyway, back to your statement- no he's not. He's Scott's responsibility now, he chose that for himself. If Scott is too busy fumbling under the covers with the kitsune, then it's Isaac's own fault for putting his cards in with someone who's so... easily distracted."

That answer doesn't sit right with him either, and Derek shakes his head.

"So if he gets killed-"

"-then maybe he should have read the fine print. Stay out of it, Derek. Remember what happened last time you got involved."

Of course he does. How could he not? Jennifer had murdered almost a dozen people, and Derek, in his own way, had helped her do it. Their deaths were on his head, along with Erica and Boyd. Last time he got involved, he had tried to fight back and he lost. Now... now he supposes it's time to stay quiet, under the radar. Maybe his lack of involvement won't get teenagers murdered.

Or maybe it will.

"He came to _me_ ," Derek finally decides, his jaw held tight. "I'm going to train him. I didn't ask you whether or not I _should_ , I asked you how to do it. Now, are you gonna help me? Or are you gonna leave so I can figure this out?"

Peter rolls his eyes, leaning forward in his chair and resting his elbows on his knees, folding his fingers together carefully as he considers his options.

"Well, you don't have to be so _dramatic_ about it."

__


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and Peter get to the root of Isaac's issue, Scott finds out about Isaac going back to his old alpha for training, and progress is sort of made.
> 
> Sort of.

Isaac doesn't show.

It's probably for the best, but Derek can't hide the flash of disappointment. He had honestly expected Isaac to come- had prepared for it, had gotten everything ready. He wouldn't say he was _excited_ , but there was a certain swell of self assurance that came with the amount of time he'd devoted to this, and the fact that Isaac has completely ignored it is... annoying at best.

Luckily, Peter isn't around to mock him for being 'stood up', and it's with a little sigh that Derek moves to put his things away, instead moving for the kitchen. He'd skipped lunch in order to prepare everything- eating now would be a good idea.

His mind treacherously goes back to Isaac as he pulls out his cookware, sees the slight dent on the countertop from when the beta had slammed his fist down in anger for some reason or another. Derek brushes his fingertips over the dent, his jaw tight, _did I do something wrong?_

His eyes lower and he shoves the glass cookware back, pushing slightly too hard in his frustration and chipping off the edge of the measuring cup. There's a long pause there as he looks at it, almost confused for a moment- is he really so shaken up by this? Has Isaac really gotten under his skin so much?

Slowly, Derek pulls out a baking sheet and throws away the fragmented pieces of glass, instead opting to just heat up something he has in the freezer. It's probably safer that way, if he's really going to be spending the next half hour thinking about everything he's done that's lead to Isaac actually _not_ coming back. 

Derek has had a chance. He's had more of them than should be allowed- Peter once accused him of preying on teens with self esteem issues, and he wonders if he hadn't done it intentionally. He'd isolated targets who would truly benefit from the bite- a sick girl, an abused boy, so on and so forth- but part of him wonders if he might have chosen them for darker reasons.

Did he really choose teenagers who had nothing so that he could give them everything? Or did he choose teenagers who had nothing so that they could take abuse from _him_ without batting an eye, keep coming back because they felt like they owed him? _You can't survive on your own_ , he'd said, but who was he really talking about?

If nothing else, then he knows this: he came back for the right reasons. He came back to help Scott and his pack- including Isaac- and that's what he's going to do. Even if he has to force his way back into the fold, he's going to make up for what he did and he's going to protect this town. That's all he has left.

He's just about to preheat the oven when he hears footsteps- too light to be Peter, too spaced apart to be Scott. The door slides open a few moments later, and-

"-after school conference," Isaac sighs, tossing his backpack on the floor. "I guess people are starting to notice that I'm a minor without a legal guardian and two properties left in my name."

And Derek wants to berate him for being late, for making him _doubt_ himself, but Isaac's words make him pause, surprised as he slowly clicks off the oven.

"What are they going to do?"

Isaac shrugs, obviously not too concerned.

"Dunno. They asked where I was staying and I told them. Melissa has a pretty good rep, but she's not 'in the system' or whatever. So they said that I'd have to go to a home and I was like, 'if you put me in a foster home I'll be gone by nightfall,' and then they talked about Melissa adopting me, but by the time the papers go through I'd be almost eighteen anyway."

Derek lifts an eyebrow. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah? Well, Scott's dad kind of has it out for me. Sonofabitch called me a freeloader." Isaac scoffs angrily and moves to the counter, opening up one of Derek's cupboards like he still lives here and pulling out a bag of chips. "I was _this_ close to telling him how many times I saved his family's life, but I held my tongue and got out of there as quick as I could. We're supposed to meet again tomorrow to go over the legal paperwork and stuff."

As far as tardy excuses go, it's a good one. Derek just watches Isaac for a few moments longer, not sure if he should stress the importance of avoiding legal complications... but who is he to talk? Besides, that's not why they're here.

"I actually kind of forgot about my house though," Isaac murmurs offhandedly, "With it being seized as evidence and all, and everything else that's been going on around here, I never really realized that it's technically mine now."

To be honest, Derek doesn't exactly care. But this is more than Isaac has spoken to him since before he left, and he's not going to squander this opportunity. So he just nods, idly watching Isaac munch away on his chips for a few moments, before clearing his throat.

"What are you going to do with it? Move back in?"

"Hell no." That actually pulls a surprised laugh from him and Isaac covers his mouth to keep the Doritos from falling out. He swallows quickly and shakes his head. "I guess I'll sell it. Should give me enough money to- I don't know, find an apartment or something after Scott goes to college."

The idea that Isaac doesn't seem to be planning on college twinges some odd worry in Derek- but who is he to speak? "And the graveyard?"

That pulls another shrug out of the teenager, sighing into his chips.

"I don't know. Sell that too? Though, if things keep going the way they're going, the graveyard business will be booming in this town. Maybe I could hire someone to take care of it for me or something."

The macabre humor that had become so characteristic of Isaac since Derek had seen him last makes the older man smile a little wryly. He doesn't really have anything else to ask on the subject though, and so they fall into a silence that's not quite as uncomfortable as the silences before it.

Having Isaac here, acting so casual about it- it's almost like it was a few months ago, when the beta lived with him and everything was fine. Derek finds himself biting back a smile as Isaac finishes his handful of chips and wraps the bag back up to tuck it into a cupboard.

"So."

Derek lifts his chin as he's addressed, watching Isaac wipe his fingers off on his jeans and turn back to face him.

"You said you were going to come up with something."

"I did."

Isaac rolls his eyes. "Did you?"

"I did."

"You're being deliberately unhelpful."

"You were late. I already packed up."

"That wasn't my fault!"

Derek has to duck his head to hide his smile at their banter and instead turns away, back toward the trunk that he's dragged out in the open training area. Isaac perks up at that and peers over toward the heavy wooden chest, curious to see what's inside. When Derek doesn't immediately open it, he lifts an eyebrow, shooting the former-alpha a Look. Obviously milking the curiosity, Derek reaches for the lid and rests his hand on it, taking in a deep breath.

"This is going to be something other than what we're used to doing. This is a way to train your senses, rather than just your motor skills. Do you understand?"

Isaac rolls his eyes. "Yes."

"Good. Because the first thing we're going to be doing is taking them away," Derek finally says, somewhat triumphantly as he pulls the blindfold out of the trunk. This isn't just a soft, silken strip of fabric- it's heavy, thick, built in such a way that completely covers the eyes and lets no light shine in.

The reaction from Isaac isn't entirely expected. The beta's brow furrows a little and he tilts his head, apprehensive. Derek can hear his heart kick up, and he listens to the way that his throat closes- though he's not outwardly showing signs of anxiety, his body gives him away.

"...what are we doing with that?" he finally asks, taking a step back as Derek steps in closer. Derek pauses and tries to read the situation again, his gaze lowering to the blindfold again before lifting it for Isaac to see.

"It's like blinders for horses. Take away one sense, focus on the others. No fighting, just letting you feel- letting you listen and smell the air, rather than relying on your eyes. We can read emotion, _feel_ the supernatural weight in a room, but if you're too busy trying to look for things, you'll miss feeling them and you won't know they're there."

Isaac still doesn't look convinced, so Derek sighs, resisting the urge to just _make_ him put the damn thing on.

"Do you trust me?"

He expected the answer to come easily- as easily as it had months ago.

Instead, it's met with silence.

__  
"So we did some tracking exercises," Derek says, his arms folded firmly across his chest, "he was able to find the blood on the rocks, and we went after the deer. He needed too much help with that one- it was frustrating, like he's- "

"-a normal teenager, thrust into the supernatural world that he's utterly unprepared for?"

The interruption earns Peter a glare, and Derek huffs out a short breath through his nose. Peter just shrugs his shoulders in return, giving him his best 'what can you do?' expression. Derek finds that he's grown to hate that look.

"-like he's not even trying."

Peter pauses at that and lets out a sigh, setting the book he had been trying to read down on the table and kicking his legs up on the wood, crossing his angles over in a posture that very much indicates that he doesn't give a damn.

But he's here to _help_ , or so he's trying to make Derek believe, so despite his nonchalant posture, he actually considers his words before he speaks.

"Are you sure you're not comparing him to a born wolf? At his age, you had sixteen years' experience. He has less than one."

"But Scott-"

"- _Scott_ is a natural," Peter reminds him, holding up his hand. Derek can almost see his chest swelling with pride- as if his selection of Scott was actually a carefully measured step instead of a half-crazed wolf running teeth first into an asthmatic kid. "Isaac... what did you think was going to happen when you picked the kid? You know what the problem with him is?"

"I'm sure you're going to tell me," Derek grumbles, leaning his shoulder against the window.

"The _problem_ is that he's so entrenched in his delicate post traumatic stress that he can't stop moving. He's jumpy, nervous. It's good for reaction time, bad for taking measured steps. Isaac can't take a step back and look at the whole picture because _daddy_ beat all the peace out of him."

Derek flinches at that, his jaw tightening as he remembers the nailmarks in the basement, the yelling in the middle of the night when Isaac had first started sleeping in the same place as him.

"He was calm when we were tracking the deer."

"Was he?" Peter lifts an eyebrow. "How many times did he jump ahead of you and screw it up?"

-which, really, had been the whole problem. It's written all over Derek's face, and Peter smirks at that, reaching again for his book.

"So- what? He has to slow down?"

"Precisely. I thought Scott would be perfect for that, but... Isaac hasn't exactly been the focus of his new alpha's life, poor dear. You and I, we grew up with the dichotomy inside of ourselves. We knew anger and violence, but we also knew peace, as is our way. The new wolves, they got the violence all at once. For Scott, he was able to balance it out with _love_."

Isaac's predicament remains unspoken. He doesn't have to say it, really. Derek understands the implication fine, but he doesn't like it.

He chose wrong- of course he did. He refuses to believe that _Peter's_ protege was chosen for any reason other than the simple sin of being in the wrong place at the wrong time- but Isaac? Isaac was a conscious decision for Derek, and he'd picked someone who would want for power, as he himself did. Someone who had nothing to lose, and everything to gain.

Maybe that's where he went wrong. Maybe he should have looked for people who were _able_ to say no, but he was between a rock and a hard place back then, he didn't have time to interview possible candidates. He needed wolves and he needed them quickly, and now Isaac is suffering the consequences of his decision.

Fuck.

Peter doesn't look up from his book when Derek grabs his jacket, abandoning the conversation and leaving the flat without another word. Still, tugging at the edge of his uncle's mouth is the faintest of smiles as the door slams shut.

__  
Isaac can smell it when he gets home. The faint aura of concern, the sudden shift in Scott's posture when he walks through the door. Maybe 'smell' is a bad word to describe it- it's more that he can _feel_ it, deep down in his core. He senses his alpha starting, senses Scott's quick descent down the stairs.

Fleetingly, he thinks that Derek would be pleased that he took the time to detect that, but-

"Isaac?"

-but he doesn't really have time to dwell on it before he's faced with a worried alpha. Scott's expression changes suddenly, from an open look of concern into the deep, almost hurt-looking confusion, and Isaac realizes suddenly that he probably smells like Derek.

It's not the first time he's come home after visiting his former alpha, but the first time that he's done so while Scott has been paying attention. The other boy had been studying with Kira what seems like every day this past week, and Isaac had conveniently not needed to make up an excuse for what he's been up to.

Now, though...

"I thought you were with Kira," is all he can really say, and the words sound dumb to him, guilty, like he's been caught in a lie, but Scott shakes his head- seemingly confused, rather than angry.

"Her mom needed to talk to her. When you told me you didn't need a ride home, I thought you were..."

Going to a study group? Doing something with normal teenagers? The implication is clear- _I didn't think you'd be with Derek-_ but Isaac doesn't know what to do about it, so he just shrugs sort of lamely.

Scott's lips press together tightly. "I sent you like, three texts."

"...oh." Isaac digs his hand in his pocket for his phone and- sure enough, the texts were waiting from Scott, unopened in his inbox. "I was out in the woods. I probably didn't have service."

"With Derek?"

It doesn't sound accusatory at all, but Isaac knows how people can change in the span of seconds, and so he tenses, eying Scott like he's expecting another punch. It hasn't happened in awhile, but who's to say it won't ever happen again?

His father had once confronted him about hanging out with a friend after school. About not knowing where he was. About _goddamnit, what if you got hurt and I'd have to go to the police?_

Which really, Isaac had never particularly understood, because his own father did a pretty good job of hurting him right after that- hence the wariness now.

Unfortunately, Scott catches the sudden edginess and shakes his head, his mouth dropping open in surprise as he takes a step forward.

"Isaac- I didn't mean it like that. I was just worried about you." He reaches a hand out to clap on Isaac's shoulder- warm, palm open, deliberately gentle, and the softness that radiates from the touch seems to drain some of the tension out of Isaac's posture. "I think it's great that you're hanging out with Derek. When he came back, I was worried that the two of you wouldn't get along."

Isaac finds himself smiling a little wryly at that and he shakes his head. "We're not, really."

"Huh? Then why- " Scott cuts himself off, shaking his head and letting his hand drop. "It's cool. It's your business. God, listen to me, I sound like a mom. Have you eaten?"

The rest of the night goes smoothly, as Isaac was hoping it would. Sooner or later, he’ll tell Scott what his business with Derek is, when he’s sure that Scott won’t blame himself for _not being there_. He’s not, but- but Isaac never really expected to be in his top priorities. It’s not a big deal.

But Derek? Derek owes him this much. Scott never asked to have this much responsibility over another human being, never particularly wanted to be an alpha, but it was forced on him just the same, just as Isaac was forced into his protection. He’s not going to make Scott feel obligated to do anything else. That job lies solely with Derek.

_  
There’s still a little resentment the following Tuesday, when Isaac shows up at the loft with his bag slung over his shoulder. Derek looks up at the noise of the door sliding open, and the beta doesn’t speak as he closes it behind him.

Isaac has been a problem on his mind for weeks now, and one that he doesn’t particularly understand how to address. With all the commotion involving Stiles now, both Isaac and Derek have fallen to the sidelines and left then stuck in a situation that they don’t particularly care about, but don’t exactly have an option to ignore either. It leaves them here.

He finds Isaac staring wordlessly at him a moment later and shakes his head to clear the thoughts from his mind as he centers himself back on what they needed to be doing. Isaac is looking to him for guidance, for some form of control that he doesn’t know how to find on his own. For power- but the kind of power that comes with grace instead of rage. That’s what he needs, and that’s what Derek doesn’t know how to give him.

But, they’ll start simple.

“Your anchor,” Derek finally says, nodding toward the beta, “what is it?”

The question seems to take Isaac by surprise and there’s the briefest moment of vulnerability that flashes across his face before his expression hardens and he looks away.

“You know what it is.”

Just as he’d thought, the months hadn’t changed Isaac’s feelings on the subject, and Derek takes a step forward, trying to catch Isaac’s gaze. This is a pretty big leap here- the two of them had never spoken candidly about Isaac’s abuse. He doesn’t know if now is the time to bring it up, either, not after everything that’s transpired between the two of them.

But-

“Anchors are complicated concepts,” he finally says, stepping forward again, and then to the side so he can walk slowly, in a small circle around Isaac, who cranes his head to keep Derek in his field of vision. “A wolf, at it’s core, doesn’t feel complicated emotions. It doesn’t feel guilt, or shame, or self doubt. Forcing those emotions to the front of your mind reinforces a higher thought- reinforces your _human_ thought. It reminds you of what you are. For Scott, he has love. His anchor is an enigma, an actual person who makes him feel love, and the need to protect them. It makes him feel concern, worry, and most of all, self gratification. He’s taken care of. He’s-“

“Yeah, I get it. And you’re pissed all the time. So what does that- “

“I’m _angry_ ,” Derek cuts him off sharply, “at- at a lot of things. Complicated things, things something with a feral mind wouldn’t understand.”

_Self doubt_ , he’d said, _guilt_. Self loathing fits right in there, doesn’t it?

Derek clears his throat and continues. “ _Bitterness_ is a powerful emotion. Probably one of the strongest, because it’s rooted in betrayal. Betrayal wouldn’t be possible without love. You told me once that your father loved you.”

“What does this have to do with training?” Isaac asked sharply, his tone aggressive. Derek is directly behind him now, and he steps forward, setting a gentle hand on Isaac’s shoulder. Isaac looks like he has half a mind to shove t off, but for whatever reason, he doesn’t. Still, the anger bristles under his skin, and Derek can feel it welling up inside of him.

“Because bitterness is _easy_ , Isaac.”

“And anger isn’t?”

There’s a pause, and Derek drops his hand from Isaac’s shoulder, trying to quell the rising irritation. He wants to shove Isaac away, to tell him to stop talking back, to just fucking _listen_ to him. But no- he expected resistance when he brought this up. He has to accept it now.

“This isn’t about me. It’s about you. You need to find something calm.” He swallows hard, reaching into his pocket for the blindfold again. Isaac isn’t looking at him- still with his back to him- but he can hear the rustle of fabric and goes tense again. Derek slows his breathing, in hopes that it will help Isaac do the same in turn.

“I’m not going to hurt you again,” he murmurs, the sound barely a whisper. “Scott isn’t either. You’re safe.”

He didn’t think this would work- thought that Isaac would pull away from him again- but the other wolf is still, almost statuesque, as Derek lifts the blindfold with both his hands and loops his arms over Isaac’s shoulders. His movements are slow, warning Isaac of what’s to come for almost a full minute before he lifts up the fabric and slowly closes it around Isaac’s eyes.

The boy is still, like an animal that’s moments away from bolting. Both of his hands are tight into fists on either side of his body, and Derek drops a hand down to touch his palm, coax him to open his fingers.

“You’re okay,” he whispers, breathing in deep. With every moment that passes, a fraction of tension seems to bleed out of Isaac’s shoulders, and Derek is grateful for it, grateful for this chance. His eyes are lowered and he just _breathes_ , and after a minute or so, his heart jumps in his throat as he realizes that Isaac is shifting his breathing, altering it to match his own.

“…alright,” Isaac finally says after a few long moments have passed, and he seems to have adjusted slightly to his lack of vision. “What now?”

The plan had been to make sounds across the loft, to walk silently and have Isaac locate him through his heartbeat- to train slowly, throw a few slow punches around and try to build up his confidence in his hearing. But suddenly, having him like this, this edgy, angry man caught in a moment of calm, building a fragment of his trust… Derek realizes that the last thing he wants to do is _test_ him.

Which leaves him at a loss. What now? What does he do to build Isaac’s trust, to keep him calm, to help him _listen_? His fingers brush up against Isaac’s once more, the other hand lifting to his shoulder, pressing his thumb against the muscle and trying to ease out some of the tension idly as he thinks.

“Now… now you need to relax. You need to reach out with all your senses. Smell the oil in the hardwood. Listen to the wind against the glass. Feel the warmth on your skin and let that tell you everything you need to know.”

Derek lets go then and he makes a move to pull back slowly, leaving Isaac standing alone and blind in the middle of the floor.

The beta’s hand shoots out suddenly, reaching for the space that Derek vacated, his fingers arcing through the air and finding nothing.

“-don’t.”

“I’m still here, Isa-“

“ _Derek_.” Isaac’s voice changes in pitch and he steps forward, trying to blindly find Derek again. This time, Derek lets him- though he’s tempted not to- and Isaac’s hand bumps against his shoulder, fingers quickly twisting themselves in the material.

“Listen to my heart. My breathing. I’m still in the room. I’m not going to leave you.”

Derek’s brows are furrowed in confusion, but Isaac ignores his words, instead stepping in closer until the warmth of their bodies are shared and his pounding heart seems to calm a little. And he doesn’t trust him, Isaac _doesn’t_ trust him, but the vulnerability here is something that Derek never thought he’d hold in his hands again, and it’s so delicate, so fragile, that he’s instantly terrified of shattering it.

“I don’t like this,” Isaac finally murmurs, once his voice is steady enough to appear casual- though he’s betrayed by the iron of his grip in Derek’s shirt. “I’m going to take it off.”

There’s a long pause, and Derek wants to say no. This is a breakthrough of sorts, and one that he doubts they’ll have again. But how is he supposed to build Isaac’s trust if he forces him into this discomfort? He finds himself thinking of the future for once, of what this means in their relationship if he denies Isaac the reassurance of his sight and forces him to keep the blindfold on to further their training.

_You wanted this,_ he wants to say, but all he does is reach up and tug at the knot in the back of the material, loosening it enough to let it drop down Isaac’s face and lay slung around his neck.

Isaac pulls away almost immediately, blinking rapidly at the sudden light as he takes in his surroundings again. His eyes flicker up toward Derek’s face, looking at him apprehensively, as if he’s going to mock him for his weakness.

But nothing happens. Derek is silent, waiting for a response, a reaction, and finally, Isaac reaches his hands up behind his neck to untie the thing fully, and lets it drop to the floor.

He doesn’t pick it up.

“…the lightbulb in the basement broke when I was eleven,” he finally lets out, his voice careful and measured. Derek tilts his head to show that he understands, but other than that, he doesn’t speak. Isaac looks pensive for a moment, almost numb, before he licks his lips again.

“He never fixed it. I don’t know how you expect someone to be _calm_ in total darkness, how you think anyone can focus when you’re tying things to their face, but you’re wrong. I can’t do this. I’m not cut out for it.”

Derek opens his mouth to speak, before closing it again, and he just looks away. He doesn’t know what Isaac takes it as- rejection, maybe, or frustration, or maybe even respect- but whatever it is, Isaac doesn’t linger to ask him about it.

Eyes averted like this, he doesn’t see Isaac picking up his bag or the door to his loft sliding open and then closed behind him.

But he hears it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taken so long :c I had the first half of this banged out for weeks and I'm still tweaking it and not generally happy with it. I'm sorry if it's not great! Hopefully the next (hopefully last, how did this turn into a monster) chapter will be better. c:


End file.
